Your shoes really don't match your outfit — and I mean that as a compliment.

It's called "wrong shoe theory," and it's yet another Gen Z fashion moment that might seem counterintuitive at first. The concept, named by stylist Allison Bornstein, is to match your outfit with a type of shoe that might seem dramatically misaligned — like sweatpants with pumps.

"This is a very easy way to mix up your looks without needing to buy anything," Bornstein, the author of the forthcoming "WEAR IT WELL: Reclaim Your Closet and Rediscover the Joy of Getting Dressed," told Insider.

It's the latest movement that showcases Gen Z's priorities when it comes to how they present themselves: They want to be intentional — like going with the less obvious choice for a shoe — and they don't take themselves seriously. Long gone are the days of wearing a matching blouse and a statement necklace to the club; being purposefully ugly and silly is in. At the same time, as with many of the challenges that Gen Z encounters, there's an eye toward sustainability and looming climate doom. Why buy new shoes that'll end up in the landfill when your normcore comfy sneakers will do? 

"With the younger generation, I feel like they really value individuality and looking different from other people," Bornstein said. "This method for getting dressed really just promotes that uniqueness and how you can switch it up very easily and very cost efficiently, and create something totally different and totally not straightforward."

It's no wonder, then, that Gen Z is embracing another similarly kitschy and thriftable aesthetic: Kramercore. As The Atlantic's Amanda Mull reports, everyone wants to dress like Kramer this summer. Yes, Kramer, the Seinfeld character constantly bursting into the room to inform everyone about his latest side quest. Think zany button downs, fun collars, slightly cropped pants, and loafers. If it's already in your closet, throw it together for whatever the day brings.

As Mull posits, Kramer's eclectic aesthetic fits the current moment: A mishmash of older style that's still timeless, a reaction to an uncertain world — Kramer could be up to quite literally anything — met with just a bit of fun. As the New York Times reported, Kramercore frenzy already struck the nation once in 1994, a few years into the show's run. Back then, Kramer fits were flying off the shelves — so much so that the show's costume designer lamented to the Times that she couldn't find any clothing for Kramer. 

"Fashion-wise, we've really created a monster," Seinfeld costume supervisor Charmaine Simmons told the Times in 1994.

That hunger for Kramer clothing came against an economic backdrop that might sound familiar: In 1991, there had been a short recession, taking particular aim at white-collar workers and increasing income inequality. But, come 1994 — when Kramercore reached such a fever pitch that the costume designer was struggling — the economic scale had tipped toward workers and away from Wall Street, as the Los Angeles Times reported at the time. The 1994 stock market floundered, but consumers were eager to spend on real goods.

That certainly has some parallels with the pandemic-scarred economy, where Gen Zers in particular experienced rounds of financial booms and busts. As a generation that's piling up credit card debt, and is particularly attuned to the climate crisis, dressing and spending is loaded for Gen Z. It makes sense that some are drawn to cheap, attainable styles like picking out the wrong shoe, or having someone curate sustainably-sourced style bundles. 

Bornstein said it's part of a reckoning some people, especially millennials, experienced with their closets during the pandemic, asking, "Why do I have all this? What is this for? How is this helping me?"

That led to a real paring down and a return to basics and minimalism.

Some were "missing that personality," Bornstein said, and are now asking themselves "what's going to set me apart? How can I add back in my personality?"

Whether it's a closet crisis or a climate crisis, Gen Z's response has often been to lean into the absurdity, and for some that means emulating Kramer — thick white socks, bowling shirt, and all.